Bloomtasia
by dk2022
Summary: There's a ball and every man's invited! Who will Princess Kathryn marry? Why does every man fear Seven of Nine? Find out here in this twisted Cinderella story.


Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine. The story is, but the characters aren't. Oh well.

Author's Notes: If you don't like the mention of eunuchs as comedy, turn away. Also, see if you can see the Doctor Who mentions, and the Harry Potter ones. (Of course, mentions of these means that I don't own them either, because Doctor Who isn't mine, neither is Harry Potter, or the spells/potion names used). Also, kudos to Margret Atwood's 'A Handmaid's Tale'.

Big thanks to my sister for doing the quick beta, and a big thanks to my SF victim giftee, for giving me this idea. She had asked for: a J/C story, some angst is good, but I can't deal with it if is long a drawn out. I like baby fic but it's not a must have (think of it as an elective) if your muse is willing then go with it. Any rating is fine, as long as I get my happy ending.  
bonus points if you can somehow get Tuvok and Chakotay thrown in the brig together, and they don't have to be the only ones I hope you like it toots!

* * *

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, lived two beautiful princesses. One was already married, quite happily too, whilst the other princess, the older, well travelled one, was footloose and fancy free. Which was the way it was going to stay, thank you very much. Except her mother, the queen, had other plans; she wanted grandchildren from her eldest daughter. This princess was not amused, but neither was the queen.

"Chief Eunuch, go fetch your mistress," the queen commanded. Nodding, he wordlessly followed the queen's command.

"Her royal highness, Princess Kathryn!" a fat man proclaimed as a woman with ember flames for hair and eyes of bluest tanzanite charged purposefully into the room (not really a throne room but a place where Queen Gretchen liked to sit with a mini-crown on her head).

"Good afternoon Katie," she greeted benignly. "Now, you're thirty this weekend--"

"Don't remind me," she interrupted, reminding her mother of the thirteen year old she had once been.

"Be that as it may, you are to have a ball in honour of such an auspicious occasion. All of the land are to be invited, and you are to dance with every available man."

"Mother! This isn't a male orientated society anymore. Why do I have to dance with every available man?" she asked, folding her arms over her chest.

"Because I would like grandchildren before I die."

"But… Phoebe --"

"But nothing, Kathryn," her mother interrupted. "You are to be married, or disowned. Now, what's it going to be?"

* * *

"Hey Chak buddie! You seen the newest poster?" Tom asked his friend as he joined Tuvok and himself at the town's notice board. All three wore simple garments, leather boots, cotton shirts and heavy cotton trousers. Spring may have sprung but early mornings were still nippy.

"No, I haven't. Why?" Chakotay asked as his eyes roamed the message board.

"Princess Kathryn, at the request of her mother, is having a masked ball to celebrate her birthday. Everyone in the town is invited," Tuvok explained in his dulcet tones. He and Chakotay, having grown together as neighbours, were close, and Chakotay would ask his opinion and trust his views. Tom was Tuvok's direct opposite; knowing where all the decent parties were was his forte. The three were a well balanced trio, golden almost.

"No chance Chak here's going, unless he's got a fairy godmother!" Tom joked good-naturedly.

"More chance than you boy!" he quipped back. They all knew that a ball like that was not the place for men such as Tom and Chakotay. Tuvok had that quiet nobility about him that had never seemed to rub off on the other two. They weren't going.

But that wasn't what the princess' lady-in-waiting thought. No, she and the Chief Eunuch had decided that enough was enough, and the hole between Princess Kathryn's legs needed to be saved.

"How though B'El?" Harry asked, his robes long and embroidered, as was the fashion with Chief Eunuchs.

"A fairy godfather owes me a favour… Maybe I could ask him," B'Elanna pondered as she fiddled with the hem of her sleeve.

"Why --?"

"Best not ask Hazel. It's a long and involved tale including goats, three hens, a sheep and a vicar."

So it was decided that B'Elanna would call in the favour with the goat loving fairy godfather, and Princess Kathryn would find her soul mate and get laid, many times in many different positions. "Some people get all the luck," Harry muttered.

* * *

In the outer reaches of the land, past where the law could reasonably prosecute you, lived two lonely souls. Clever souls, but lonely. One, a witch, had the knowledge of countless beings all in her head, and the hypnotic beauty of a cobra poised to strike. Her eyes would drag you under her spell and would control you, even after death. Her voice held no emotion; she was a being of pure logic. An aura of deadliest macabre surrounded her in a gossamer haze disguised as smouldering seduction.

Had enough of her? Yes? Good!

The other soul, a sad, lonely soul, had the workings to be the next tyrant (as if a land ever needed a tyrant). He already had a crown, a marble one and a gold one to put on the marble one. He wore robes of blue and black, and sang each day. This is the reason why he lived on the outskirts of the land; his fashion sense would blind even bats.

Both Seven of Nine (the witch) and The Doctor (the tyrant to be) had plans for the land in which they (barely) lived, and the denizens of the villages and towns would bow to them… Possibly only because of the falling rocks.

Without knowing, the two cackled a pitch perfect cackle duet.

* * *

Two days before the ball, B'Elanna summoned the goat loving fairy godfather. "Good evening ladies and – oh. It's only you." Obviously the fairy godfather was not expecting B'Elanna to call upon him so soon. "No, I won't give that nut less nutter his particulars back… Before you ask," he added, smirking.

"Whatever. Look, I helped you with your goat fetish on the agreement that you would owe me a favour. I'm calling in that favour."

The Fairy Godfather harrumphed and sat down on an empty plush chair. "Well?"

"You remember Princess Kathryn--?"

"Kathy! That adorable firecracker! Anything I can do and I'll do it!"

"Great. You get her soul mate to the ball on Saturday and we'll call it quits."

"Just that?" he asked carefully.

"Well…"

* * *

"Chief Eunuch. How are things coming for the ball this Saturday?" Queen Gretchen asked from her not-quite-a-throne throne.

"Well, your Majesty. She has only to pick a dress, and choose a hair style."

Queen Gretchen chuckled. "Kathryn always did have trouble with her hair." Harry smiled. "Well, thank you for the report, Chief Eunuch. You are dismissed."

Bowing, Harry left in a swirl of robes, not unlike a certain Potion Master from Harry Potter, just not so evil and less… quietly ballsy. In the fitting room, Harry met with B'Elanna and filled her in on everything. "So, how's the Princess?"

B'Elanna rolled her eyes. "We're down to three outfits."

"B'Elanna – oh, good afternoon Chief Eunuch – B'Elanna, which one says, 'I'm available but totally uninterested,' the green or the blue?"

"Green," she replied after a moment's deliberation. Kathryn smiled and went back into the giant cubicle. "She'll take the red though."

"The red?" Harry asked.

"The last choice. More cleavage," B'Elanna explained, all knowing.

"I can still hear you hand maid!" Kathryn groused good naturedly.

"Sorry, your highness." B'Elanna grinned, she'd been the princess' right hand girl since they were four. They met on her birthday, eating chips and fish fingers, when a seagull stole one of Kathryn's fish fingers. B'Elanna saved the day and gave her two. They had chips, fish fingers and ice cream for Kathryn's birthday each year after that, B'Elanna always sharing her last fish fingers with Kathryn. Whilst B'Elanna would always be the hired help, she and Kathryn were extremely close, but not in an abusive, dystopian way. They were friends in different ranks.

"Now I need a hairstyle. An up-do or loose?" Kathryn mused as they walked from the fitting room.

"Maybe an up-do with lots of braids, like the goddesses of old," Harry suggested, and both ladies had to admit how good an idea it was.

* * *

The night of the ball found Chakotay sweeping the floors of his step-sister's hall. She was nice enough, but she wasn't a fan of the idea of Chakotay with anyone else, especially any other female. Still, with his step-sister out of town, and with everyone at the castle, Chakotay knew he'd have a nice quiet night.

"Is that really what you want, a quiet night in, looking at the peeling paint on these poor walls?" a voice sneered from the chandelier.

"When in the world did she get that?" was Chakotay's first question, followed closely by, "Who are you?"

"I'm your fairy godfather, here to help you find your soul mate."

"Yeah, you and everyone else," Chakotay replied, putting his broom away.

The Fairy Godfather gasped with mock shock. "Don't you believe me?"

"Let me put it this way. Would you believe a man who does what you do to goats and chickens?" Chakotay asked pointedly.

The Fairy Godfather blushed ever so slightly before continuing his favour to the gruesome twosome at the castle. "Regardless, tonight you are going to meet your soul mate, so you best get dressed and form a posse."

"A bossy?" Chakotay asked bemusedly (he was only a farmer's son, to be fair to him).

"No, a PO-sse. Oh hell! … A wide, gathewing of people for a weason." The Fairy Godfather had evidently bitten the side of his tongue.

"I thought that was a wawy…"

"Ah yes, but it's also a posse… Just with more people. Now that my tongue is back in one piece let's get you dressed!" Chakotay, suddenly surrounded by magic and glitter (let's not forget the ever important glitter Fairy Godfathers live for), idly thought, as his hair was being styled, that this Fairy Godfather was a bit of a queen. But true to his wooden form, he stayed silent.

"Now, let's get you a posse!" he announced as Chakotay started at himself in the mirror. He looked great, even if the stupid tattoo he had as a teen was still on show above his mask. "Well, it would be, seeing as it's on your face!" the Fairy Godfather sneered, before laughing a huge belly laugh.

"A posse?"

"Have you any friends? At all?"

"Yes. Tom Down Road and Tuvok Next Door."

"That's their full names?"

"My mother's name for them."

Shaking his head, the Fairy Godfather clicked his fingers and the four of them stood outside the main ballroom's door. "Good luck Chakotay. Spell ends at midnight, so get in there quick!" And with a flash of light, the Fairy Godfather was gone.

"Chak, you look like you've been dragged through a wardrobe forwards. Pleasantries over, can we go back inside? There was this cute chick there that was playing Saucy Looks with me." Tom turned his head wistfully towards the ballroom.

"Sure, let's go in."

And go in they did. The place was jam packed, not just with men but with ladies too, all wishing Princess Kathryn a very happy birthday. She was smiling, but Chakotay could tell that it didn't reach her eyes. He didn't know how, he just did.

"There! The cute chick, next to the guy in the robe. Excuse me whilst I schmooze." Tom left Tuvok and Chakotay at the punch bowl.

"She has danced with both Tom and me, but there is approximately a third of the gentlemen here that have not had the pleasure. I would suggest – "

"Good evening gentlemen. Have you danced yet?" a pretty blonde asked from behind her cat mask. The mask matched her outfit, a skin tight black cat suit that hid nothing.

"Tuvok here has but I haven't," Chakotay replied, unaware of the blonde's machinations.

"Then dance with me until Princess Kathryn calls upon you," she suggested seductively. Smiling, Chakotay relented and danced with the cat woman.

Princess Kathryn, from the arms of a man called Joe, watched as the man in black twirled with a cat, and felt instantly jealous. Smiling sweetly, she waited for the song to end before gliding over to the pair. "Excuse me. May I cut in?"

"Of course you may, your highness," Chakotay replied, untangling himself from the feline octopus. Bowing to his cat-form friend, he then turned his smile to the princess. Her knees buckled slightly – he had the most adorable dimples!

"You are aware of my name, but I have not caught yours, Mr…?"

"Chakotay, your highness. Just Chakotay."

"Well, Just Chakotay, have you enjoyed the party thus far?" she asked coquettishly as they danced around the room.

"Well, it's brightened up immensely," he answered honestly. They twirled and skittered across the floor, blissfully unaware of the evil glares following their every footstep.

"I think I've made my decision," Kathryn whispered in his ear. "You're strong and muscular. Do you enjoy riding?"

Chakotay smirked slightly, before answering, "Of what I have experienced I have enjoyed."

"Fancy riding me tomorrow?"

"What?" he asked incredulously.

"Fancy riding with me tomorrow?" she asked innocently.

Blushing, he stammered a positive reply, forgetting he would be at home, sweeping the floors of his step-sister's house. Soon, the princess and the (well disguised) pauper were close, masked noses touching each other, their breath mingling before –

"Every male in this ballroom is to be escorted to the banquet hall for a few moments," a voice, booming and assertive, proclaimed. "This includes the man dancing with the princess," the voice added. Shrugging, Chakotay left wit the others, unaware of what was about to befall him.

Letting him go seemed like a foolish idea to Kathryn, but the Master of Ceremonies looked so adamant that everyone followed his lead. Queen Gretchen had merely huffed and told the men to proceed.

"Why did they take the Chief Eunuch?" B'Elanna asked as she reached her mistress. "He's as manly as me, if not less!"

"I don't know," Kathryn admitted sotto voce, "but I don't like it."

* * *

The dungeons of the castle weren't that bad. They had a pleasant view of the lake at night, with decent seating arrangements and no manacles. Tom had to give it a three whip rating. Even the guards were polite.

Tuvok and Chakotay stood to the back of the group of men formed, their backs against the dingy, mouldy walls. "Why are we here?" Chakotay asked sombrely.

"Because the Master of Ceremonies told us to come here or be killed?" Tom suggested

"I think not."

"Oh?"

Tuvok inclined his head, "The Master of Ceremonies is here with us, in the next cell. The man who forced us here was not him, but I believe I know who it is."

"Who?" Chakotay asked under the cat calls of the other men.

"If I believed you to be an owl, I would not have wasted my energies." The cat woman was back. Something was very wrong. "However, if you wish to escape, I can help."

Giving her the once over, Chakotay quirked his eyebrow. "How?"

"Marry me, and I'll – "

"No thanks."

Cat woman blinked. "Excuse me?"

"No thanks," Chakotay repeated, a frost tinting his breath.

"Uh, you do know who you just refused?" Harry asked as he got jostled to the group.

"A woman in a cat outfit?" Tom supplied, a bit worried.

"If I am correct, I believe that she is the dreaded witch, Seven of Nine," Tuvok answered, making every man (except Harry) cup himself. Everyone knew of Seven of Nine's power when it came to serving justice to men.

"People do not dread me… Do they? Whatever. You either marry me, or stay here until Princess Kathryn marries the only man in the ballroom. Your choice."

Chakotay took a moment to think things through. "Do all the men go free?"

"Yes, after you promise to marry me."

Sighing, Chakotay replied, "Sure… She wouldn't have loved me anyway."

"Uh… If you say so." Muttering under her breath about strange men and stranger feelings, she loosened the locks of the doors. "Come."

* * *

"Almost midnight, and we're all alone. My my Princess Kathryn, it looks like we'll be married by the morning." The Master of Ceremonies cackled evilly.

"Who are you?" Kathryn gasped.

"Your husband to be," he crooned in what he thought was his smoothest voice.

"Not if I have anything to do with it!"

"Chakotay!"

He tried to run to Kathryn's arms, but couldn't move. "I… I can't move! I'm stuck here!"

"Why?" she yelled across the room (it was a very big room after all).

"Because he promised to marry me!" Seven of Nine cackled.

Kathryn's knees gave way and she sank to the floor in a pool of red silk and burnt orange feathers. "But…"

Chakotay, helpless, sank to his knees; neither realised the death stares passing above their heads.

"Seven of Nine. We meet again."

"As it would seem, Doctor."

Everyone in the room gasped as the Doctor's form shimmered from the short, sandy haired Master of Ceremonies Harold Saxon, to the tall, balding Doctor. "Now, Seven of Nine, a duel to the death!"

With cat like agility, Seven of Nine threw curse after hex towards the tyrant-to-be, leaping and moving to and fro as if she was playing a game of dodge ball. The Doctor swerved and volleyed back curses of his own, with hexes speeding with them. They got closer, and Seven of Nine's magical hold over Chakotay broke. He crawled to Kathryn with the magic flowing above him.

"Amortentia!" the two cried together towards their beloveds to be, to have the curses rebound, the red flashes shooting towards the casters above the heads of the soul mates. The fizzing of the magic stopped, the hissing quietened like a dying snake, and the duellists stepped towards the centre, next to Chakotay and Kathryn.

"You're gorgeous!"

"You're not too bad looking either, Doctor," Seven of Nine replied, as they grasped hands.

All the guests, including the real Harold Saxon, stood at the doors as the clock struck midnight. "Marry me," Kathryn commanded softly as the third bell tolled.

"I would but the Fairy Godfather said – "

"How old are you Chakotay?" Kathryn asked.

"Thirty five."

"And you still believe in fairy godfathers? You are a goose," she laughed, before kissing him, sealing their fates forever.

And, as they say, they lived happily ever after.

* * *

To Starfleet Rebel, my SF giftee, I hope you enjoyed this. If not, I'm sorry. :) Chakotay and Tuvok in a (sort of) brig. Happy Spring Fling!!


End file.
